Later, when we crawl into bed to sleep, we lie on our sides, naked, facing each other. We’re so close we share the same pillow, and each breath I draw is one he’s already expelled. His arm curves over my hip, his hand cupping my butt cheek, and he has one leg draped over mine. We’re so tangled together I don’t think we’ll ever come apart. Around us the room is dark, the lamp turned off, and the only sounds come from our breathing and the soft slur of salt against the windows. Every time I try to speak, he kisses me quiet.
“Ricky,” I’ll start, and then his mouth closes over mine.
When we pull apart I sigh and try to think of something to say to make him kiss me again. “Why—”
Another kiss.
I place a finger to my lips. This time when I speak, he kisses my knuckle and I keep talking. “Why
